Drowning My Demons
by Astaghaill
Summary: Isis O'Conner moves to San Andreas with her Grandmother in hopes of escaping their rather recent past. Things pick up after Isis meets the infamous, bank-robbing trio, and is forced to go on a job in order to get money she desperately needs. More events unfold in result and ultimately leads to death and pain. Rated M for language, drugs, alcohol, sexual content, and Trevor.
1. New Arrival

Drowning my Demons.

Chapter 1

_Can we live without death? Can we love without hate? Can we want without need? I've fallen once again... Do we ever really live our lives enough to appreciate that we can never truly grasp one without the other. That a concept has no meaning without an opposing force. If hate is what's inside us. And hate is what divides us. We are only able to use our hate to drive us. We are the damned... and let death not deprive us. Do we want this, or do we need this?_

A more than appropriate quote, in Isis' mind, to describe the situation that humanity is in. People take what they want, without thinking of the people who may need what they so selfishly demand. The people who want more and more, but never give back. The ones who think themselves higher and mightier than the people 'under' them. Yes, us. We are the poor, weak, pathetic and miserable. We are the scathed, emotional, diabolical rats of humanity that everybody looks down upon. Even yet, how can humanity function without this ordeal? If everyone was poor and weak, we would all die off in darkness and despair. But if we were all rich slobs, we would all engage in some sort of savage death battle, killing everyone we ever knew in order to achieve ultimate power over everyone else. Ultimately everyone would die. The last man standing would rule over everything... and nothing, and he will eventually wither away, and so ends our rule of our pathetic excuse for a human race.

Isis scoffed at her thoughts, clenching her fist firmly around her music player. Humanity angered her so much, and the raging screamo song that was blaring ever so loudly in her ear reminded her of that.

"Filthy scum..." She growled under her breath.

"What was that?" An old woman sitting in the seat next to her asked, unsure if she heard the young girl correctly, or if she was even speaking to her.

"It's nothing Grammy." Isis smiled a sweet smile to the woman, taking the headphones from her ears, she put her music player away and patted her grandmother's hand gently.

Isis chuckled to herself when she saw her grandmother's eyes light up at the sight of her smiling.

"It has been ages hasn't it?" Grandmother asked, tapping Isis on her arm, grinning slyly at her.

The young blonde gave the elder a questionable look and opened her mouth to speak, "Ages... since what Grammy?"

"Since I've seen you smile of course! You silly goose." She said, a bit louder than normal and let out a squaking, scratchy laugh. Isis grew a little irritated at her grandmothers answer, but shrugged it off. She hated it when people even mentioned her smiling... Or wearing dresses... Or being happy. Isis took it upon herself to show her grandma utmost respect and proper, and kind manners, seeing as she was her only family left.

Isis is twenty-nine, her Grandmother had just turned ninety-three a few weeks ago. Both of her parents were dead, and dear ol' Grammy Opal was all that she had left. Isis was moving, with her grandmother, to Los Santos to get away from their home town. Where they were from was a base route for drug cartels and was like a hive for rapists, murderers, drug dealers, the works. It wasn't safe there for them, or anyone for that matter, so she decided to pack up and move out to Sandy Shores, a, mostly, remote stretch of desert just outside of Los Santos.

As the blonde looked out the mucked-up window of the bus, she could vaguely make out the odd shape of a city on the horizon. That must be it. That has to be their destination, Isis could feel it in her gut. For the most part Isis was content, but a bit excited to be going to a different place, to meet new people but something in the back of her mind kept knocking. Something persistently nagged at her to not go there, that only death and ruin awaited her arrival but she chose to ignore it. After all, everyone has that feeling about everything, and that sixth sense isn't always right.

The bus came to a sudden halt, causing everyone's bodies to painfully jolt forward. Isis looked up over her seat as the bus slowly moved forward to see a giant, old, beat up, rust-red truck speeding and weaving in and out of traffic.

"Fucking dumb ass old man!" The bus driver shouted.

Isis sighed and checked up on her grandma, sighing again in relief that she was alright. She found her fingers weaving their way through her long dirt-blonde hair, scruffing her scalp to give herself a slight 'out-of-bed' look. She hated looking too perfect. She didn't want to be a barbie doll like what society has people believing is the 'perfect' feminine image. Long, perfect, blonde hair, soft, tan skin stretched over a stick thin body with a huge ass and bust to match. Yeah, that definitely wasn't her style. Sure she had tits and ass but she never showed it off because she was always wearing baggy clothes, and when she didn't she wore a jacket that was easily two to three sizes too big on her, thus hiding her curves. Even though she had the proper curves, she wasn't unhealthily thin either. Isis had to admit, she had a nice body, though society nowadays would call it a 'plus size', and she was still thin for christ sakes!

'Society is absolutely revolting...' Isis spat in her mind, fearing that she would draw more unwanted attention from her grandmother and possibly others.

The city came up rather quickly, to which Isis was relieved. That meant she could spare herself from her dreadful thoughts of how disgusting humans are. Even she hated thinking about it.

It was just hitting noon when they entered the city and it looked slightly run own, but still habitable. They must have been in the slums. This she could get used to.

"What a lovely city." Opal stated openly, almost to herself. Isis turned and smiled at her, taking her hand and giving it a firm but gentle squeeze.

"Yes, it seems nice. I'm sure we will do good here Grammy. The first thing I will do is look for a new job, after unpacking our stuff of course." She smiled a slight smile, still looking at her grandmother another moment before turning her face towards the filthy window. "I wonder if our stuff has arrived at the house already." She added as an after thought, then she went silent. Her mind trailed to all of the possibilities of what lies in store for her and her Grammy Opal.

She was soon shaken from her thoughts by the bus driver announcing the stop in the city. The only stop. Isis motioned for her grandmother to stand so Isis could grab their carry-on items and head off of the bus. She did just that and they were on their way. Finding a nearby bench to sit on, Isis took out her grandmothers cell phone to call a cab. They couldn't afford to have their own separate phones, so they shared one. Once she had the phone in her hand she flipped it open and realized she didn't know the number to the cities cab company. She sighed and closed it, telling her grandmother to stay sitting as she got up and wondered off to the nearest passersby.

Walking a few seconds away from the bench, she came across a man who appeared to be in his forties... maybe fifties. Gracefully, she approached him, careful to maintain a kind, and polite manner towards him.

"Excuse me, sir..." She said quietly waiting for a response. She inhaled when the man turned his upper body to look at her. His hands were in his pockets and something about him gave away that he had an almost child-like demeanor. He stared for a few seconds before responding.

"Yeah, what the fuck do you want?" He put an emphasis on the crude word and extra hatefulness into his tone, in attempts to sound intimidating. On normal people it would have had them cowering in fear but Isis was great at keeping her composure.

She simply looked back at him and gave him a warm smile and responded, "Would you, by any chance, have the number to the cab company? You see... I'm from out of town and..."

The man cut her off, his lip curling in a disgusted look, his bushy eyebrows furrowed which caused his eyes to darken even more than they were before.

"I don't give a fuck about where you came from. And I don't give a rats ass about you being lost in this fucking city, okay!" The man twisted his body to completely face her, sort of flinging his arms in front of him in a ridiculous looking manner. The younger girl kept her stance as he took a few steps towards her. She now realized that he was now at a close enough proximity for her to see, and smell, how filthy he was. It looked as if he hadn't showered in days... No scratch that, weeks, or maybe even months. His clothes were tattered and torn, and stained with blood, mud, and dirt. His stench wasn't really any better. He smelt like death and Isis couldn't stand it but luck must have been on her side. Her head traveled to the side where the second male voice called out as the man from before was walking towards her. This caused him to actually double back a few steps and look towards where the voice came from, his eyebrows raised slightly and his lips pursed together.

"Yo, T!" Another man, maybe a few years younger than the one in front of her, approached the duo. The man, referred to as T, merely glared at the man and waiting for him to fully arrive.

"What the hell do you want?" T spat at the man, shoving his hands in the pockets of his filthy sweat pants.

"Lester has a..." The mans voice died down as his gaze landed on Isis. He looked her up and down, and looked back at his friend questioningly.

"Who's this Trevor?" The unknown man asked, motioning towards the blonde girl. Isis took note that the two men both had a slight accent, very slight but it was there.

Isis opened her mouth to speak but the older of the duo spoke first, "This is Miss 'I'm lost and need fucking directions to the fucking cab company.'" The man stated harshly in a mocking and discriminatory voice. The other man glared at him in disbelief before turning to the woman before him. He outstretched his hand to her and introduced himself.

"Michael De Santa, nice to meet you." He said simply, smiling at her as she took his hand firmly in hers.

"Isis O'Conner." She smiled back at Michael but it turned into a frown and she looked Trevor up and down in disgust, and she continued "And I was asking for the number, not the directions." She said matter-of-factly.

Trevor just made a face at her and crossed his arms before turning back to Michael.

"We can talk about Lester later, when our privacy isn't being intruded." He hinted towards Isis. She caught onto it and spoke before Michael had a chance to.

"Well, if you give me the number to the cab company, my grandma and I will kindly leave your presence." She said sweetly, looking between the two, forcing a smile on her lips. She already didn't like this Trevor guy. He was disgusting, rude, vile, putrid... and any other words that would be synonymic to those just listed.

Michael let out a brief but hearty chuckle and took his phone from his pocket, allowing Isis access to his contacts in order to find the one she needed. The uttered a thanks, taking his phone and putting the number she needed in her phone. Smiling graciously, she thanked Michael again.

"Ay, it's no problem. I always try to help out people new to the city." Trevor scoffed at his friend and retorted ever so viciously.

"Since when, Michael?" Trevor scoffed again, but with an almost absent chuckle mixed into it.

"Sine... Franklin." Michael stated blandly, holding his hand out, palm face up, in front of him as he leaned back slightly. An argument seemed to start as their emotions ripped free from the cast iron barring in the backs of their minds, and their hearts. Isis could tell she shouldn't get involved in this so she quickly interrupted to excuse herself. The two stopped arguing for a moment and Michael looked at Isis. He sighed and ran his hand over his face before talking to her.

"Look, I'm sorry about this..." Michael tried his best to ignore his friend's sassy, and rather irritable remarks. He put his hand out towards here, "Here, let me give you my number..." He thought for a moment, his beady, black eyes locked with her light, almost yellow, honey brown colored ones. Smiling she took out her phone and placed it in his palm, looking back to him as he proceeded with was he was saying.

"Y'know... Just in case... Just in case you need something, you can give me a call. I'll be more than happy to help." He let out a sigh as Trevor mimicked him, and he knew jut then that Trevor wouldn't let him live this down. Isis said her thanks to Michael before retreating back to her traveling companion. She looked tired as she sat there with her delicate hands on her lap, holding her salmon pink, sequenced purse. Isis gave her a sweet smile as she plopped down next to her, putting her arm around her grandmother Opal's shoulders. She flipped her phone back open and selected the cab company's number and raised the phone to her ear, hearing it ringing she let out a sigh. She was extremely exhausted and wanted to sleep horribly.

After ordering the cab her and her grandma waited silently on the same bench. Eventually the cab arrived and gave them a honk, letting them know he was there to pick them up. Isis aided her grandmother in getting up and walking to the car, along with helping her sit in the cab. Smiling slightly at the cab driver, Isis gave him directions to their destination, to which he accepted and started to drive. Just a few more hours and they will be at their new home. Just a few more hours of butt numbing car rides and they can finally relax with a nice meal.


	2. Memories and Coffee With a Friend

Drowning My Demons

Chapter 2

A mesmerizing humming sound vibrated up and out of Isis' full, soft pink lips. She sat on the couch with a box of her belongings in front of her, sifting through the various items. Music was blaring from her headphones that were seemingly lodged into her ear canals, but she paid no mind, only to the fine tune coming from them as she bobbed her head and tapped her foot. Rummaging around the box, Isis spotted something familiar. Her hand started to gently shake as she reached for it, her heart starting to thud just a little faster than normal. Never before had she felt like this over a simple object, until now. Isis' fingers grazed over the object and soon she picked it up and brought it closer to inspect it. In her hand she held a small black box with golden embroidery on it. She held it to her, studying it, grazing her fingers along the surface until she had the nerve to open it. Inside was a single, golden locket with floral carvings all over it. The locket was connected to a thin, flimsy gold chain that shined in the sunlight peering through the curtains on the window. It seemed like ages that Isis stared at this particular item before she heard someone start to speak.

"Your mother wanted you to have it..." Isis looked up to see her sweet grandmother standing in the doorway of the bedroom. Isis looked back down to the necklace and held it to her chest and let out a heavy sigh.

"I thought mum sold it at a yard sale." Sorrow, and regret was poured into every single word she spoke. She had thought her mom had given the locket away to some stranger... but she kept it.

You see, this trinket was a gift from Isis to her mother as a Christmas gift. It's a shame her mother never wore it and 'gave it away.' It touched Isis' heart knowing her mother actually kept it all of those years... and her grandmother put it in her stuff. Why didn't she just give it to her? Was it a surprise or... Isis shook her head to clear her mind and she opened the locket. Inside on the left was a picture of her mom, and on the right was one of her father. Oh how she missed them dearly.

"I guess I learned a lesson... Huh Grammy?" Isis spoke sadly, "Always love what you have while it lasts... because it can all be gone tomorrow before you know it..."

Tears stung at Isis' eyes and threatened to fall and her lip started to quiver. Inhaling a deep breath she put her head in her hands and exhaled. It wasn't even a month since her parents passed away, and it was hard to move on. Even though she didn't get along well with them, they were still her parents and she loved them.

Walking over, Opal sat next to her granddaughter and put an old, wrinkled hand softly on her shoulder.

"It's not your fault Isis... It was an accident, there was no way you could have known..." Opal's eyes were filled with pain and pity for her young granddaughter.

Isis turned and hugged her grandmother and smiled "I know Grammy... It still hurts to think about it though."

"I know darling... I know..." Opal rubbed her back but stopped when Isis pulled away and wiped away a few stray tears that were rolling down her reddened cheeks. She sniffled a bit before she stood from the couch.

"Hey grammy... If you don't mind I'm going to take a break from unpacking. You can relax until I get back as well." She smiled sweetly at Opal.

"Oh, you're going out?" Opal asked back, a bit surprised that she wanted to go out so soon. After all, they just arrived.

"Yeah... I might call that guy from yesterday... Michael, maybe invite him out for coffee or something... He said he would help out. Maybe he can help us with moving our furniture and other heavy objects."

Opal smiled knowingly at Isis, and waved her off, accepting her decision.

Heading out of the house, Isis fixed her tank top and slid on her baggy jacket, zipping it up fully before taking out her cellphone and flipping through her few contacts. Michael's number came up on her screen and she stood there momentarily, staring at the screen before she sighed and closed her phone. Why was she so nervous? Asking this of him doesn't mean a thing... Nothing at all. She reassured herself and repeated her actions from before, only this time selecting his name. She raised the phone to her ear and listened to the ringing before she heard the sound of somebody picking up the phone.

"Hello?" She heard the voice say. Isis' heart was pounding in her chest and she swallowed, starting to speak.

"Hello, Michael? It's Isis... From yesterday." Nervousness welled up in her being and her body started to tremble and her heart pounded hard against her chest.

"Oh, hey Isis! How's it goin'? Do you need anything?"

Isis swallowed yet again before she replied to him. Her free hand was fidgeting and fumbling around with the zipper of her jacket.

"Uhm... Y-yeah, actually I was wondering if you wanted to get some coffee or something... If you're not busy of course."

A sigh of relief and a smile washed over Isis at the sound of his voice accepting her idea. Why did this make her so happy? Things are getting a bit weird and it was scaring her a bit... but she tried her best to ignore it. She sat on her front porch after calling a taxi, and waited for it to show. It only seemed like a few moments before it was pulling up in front of her trailer. Standing up, she brushed off the back of her pants and proceeded into the cab and presented the driver with directions. Yet again another car ride. At least it would only take but a few hours to get back into Los Santos from her home in Sandy Shores.

The ride there seemed to pass rather quickly, because soon enough they were pulling into a small coffee shop located somewhere in Vinewood, the rich part of the big city. Once they arrived Isis paid off the taxi driver and walked to the coffee shop, she immediately saw Michael and headed towards him, slowly and a bit awkwardly. His eyes connected with hers and he smiled at her, this made her heart race. She didn't understand why she was so affected by this man... and just after meeting him. What the hell was wrong with her? Pushing her legs to keep walking, she eventually reached the booth that he was at and sat in the seat in front of him.

"Hi." Isis smiled as she greeted him quietly. 'That was such a pathetic excuse for a hello! Fucking stupid!' Mentally, she started yelling at herself and soon she averted her gaze from Michael and calmly cleared her throat.

Michael chuckled at her behavior and spoke up, "Well hello to you to." He leaned forward onto the table slightly, studying Isis' features. Michael noticed about her, she had long, dirt-blonde hair, yellow-honey brown eyes, her skin was a pale ivory color and was sprinkled with a small amount of freckles across her cheeks and nose. Noticing he was staring at her, she looked up to him and smiled.

"So... What all is in San Andreas anyways? Is there ever anything exciting going on?"

"Well, knowing my life recently things tend to be... exciting. Maybe not the good kind, but still exciting."

Isis chuckled at the man's statement and brushed her hair behind her ear and bit her bottom lip.

"Yeah, same here. I jut moved here with my grandmother to get away from our home town. Things were getting dangerously thrilling..." She stared at the table and sighed before proceeding, "I guess you can say it was thrilling. For a short time anyhow."


	3. An Offer She Can't Refuse

Michael's face twitched into an expression of confusion and curiosity. What did she mean by dangerously thrilling? What could have happened to her to consider that as a term to explain her life? He was suddenly enthralled by this woman and wanted to know everything about her. After all, he doesn't know very many people living dangerous lives that have woken up to see tomorrow. Only, him, Franklin, and Trevor have, as far as he knows anyhow. Michael looked at the woman sitting in front of him and leaned forward slightly.

"Would you mind telling me exactly what happened that made you want to move here?" He spoke softly to her, as if to keep the conversation to themselves.

Isis, yet again, took note of his accent but she couldn't place her tongue on what it was. He didn't sound like he was from the U.S. So maybe Canada? She ran this in the back of her mind as she answered Michael's question.

"Uhm... I don't feel comfortable saying.. just yet." She fumbled her hands together nervously, looking down at the table before she continued, "maybe some other time, after we know each other a bit better." She gave him a slight smile, looking up past some loose strands of blonde hair.

Smiling back at her, Michael leaned back in his seat, putting his hands on his lap and started to question her more.

"Where did you say you live now?"

Isis smiled a bit more at his question and let out a soft giggle, it was her turn to lean onto the table. The waiter of the coffee shop walked up to the two to take their order. Isis and Michael stated their drink choice before resorting back to their before conversation.

"I live in Sandy shores. About ten to fifteen minutes from the main residential area. We've rented out a small one bedroom trailer. It's all we can afford." Her lips pursed together, she didn't want Michael to know how bad they actually have it. They have very little to their name and the trailer wasn't fit to be living in. If not for the 'For Rent' sign in the front yard, they would have thought it was abandoned. Isis sighed and put her head on her left hand and looked at the table, tracing the wood patterns with her slim index finger. Michael started to speak to her, causing her to look up at him, her head still on her hand. She used her right hand to move the stray strands of hair from her face, to a spot behind her ear.

"You know," Michael pointed a bit at her, looking at her a bit unsure of whether he should say what he was going to. He bit his bottom lip, swallowed, and continued. "I know somebody that can hook you up with a job of sorts, if you need money."

Michael studied her face and saw her incredulous expression, causing him to talk again. "Now I know you just got out of a tough life, but I've done jobs for him and I'm pretty well off, and I haven't been convicted... Yet." He said a matter-of-factually.

Isis wasn't sure if she should accept his offer. The last thing she needed was to be put in prison or to die and leave her grandmother alone. Sighing, Isis ran her hands over her face.

"I don't think I should... Especially if it means trouble."

"That's no problem." Michael lifted his hand slightly from his lap. "If you change your mind just give me a call and we will arrange something." He smiled at her but looked over as the waiter arrived with their coffee.

Isis smiled and thanked him, setting her cup closer in front of her, leaving it to cool slightly. Looking back at her friend, she opened her mouth to say something, but realized she didn't know quite what to say. It was always difficult for her to start conversations up. Finally she thought of something to say, and hoped it didn't sound like she was complaining.

"I'm hoping to find a normal place to work, so I can at least make payments for rent and to afford food." Sighing, she grabbed her coffee and took a sip out of the straw. It was still a bit scorching, but Isis didn't mind, she kind of liked the way the burn felt on her tongue. She shook those thoughts from her mind when the waiter from earlier returned to their table and started to talk to her. In a quiet voice he addressed Isis.

"Miss. If you'd like me to, I can bring you and application. We are looking for help in the back." He stated, bouncing slightly on his heels.

Isis hesitated momentarily and opened her mouth to answer, but she didn't have time before she found Michael answering for her.

"She'd love an application."

The waiter nodded and walked away before Isis could protest, so instead she turned to Michael and gave him a miniscule glare.

"I can't afford the money for a taxi to drive all the way out here for this job." She gritted her teeth, she realized she didn't have to fill out the application but she needed a job... Who was she to complain?

"Look. I know we just met and all, but you seem like you need a bit of help. Why don't you and your grandmother live with me?" Michael moved his hands around awkwardly. Did he just ask her that? "I mean, you seem like a really nice person, you and your grandmother. You don't deserve to live in a dumpy trailer. I've seen my friend Trevor's house out there. Even when it's fixed up, it's still run down looking. So, I'm offering you guys the guest bedroom in my house."

Isis didn't know quite what to say to his offer. Why the sudden hospitality and generosity? Isis couldn't complain about it though, a nice man who is obviously well off has decided to help her and her grandmother. So she accepted. Isis somehow knew she would probably regret this decision later, but she would rather live somewhere nice with an, almost, complete stranger who seemed nice, than to live in a disease infested, rat hole, and overall poor excuse for a home. She couldn't risk her grandmother getting sick, she was old and wizened and she surely wouldn't make it if she got sick again. Shrugging off the thoughts she smiled at Michael and thanked him several times over for being so kind to her.

Their conversations dragged on throughout a few more hours before it struck fifteen minutes past one in the afternoon. Isis was enjoying their rather engaging and laughter-filled dialogue so much that she never wanted to stop talking, but she knew she had to leave soon. Standing up, she said her good-bye's and excused herself from the table, giving Michael a bright, shining smile. Staring at her retreat for a brief second, he decided to get up after her and follow her out. Before she got too far out the door he touched her arm, resulting in her turning around to face him.

"Hey, wait." He looked at her for a short time and he started talking again, "I'll drive you home, save your cash." Michael returned her smile and wondered to himself why he was being so gracious, but ignored his pondering mind and directed her to his car. Once they were in the car, Michael took of, evasively ignoring the road laws by speeding, running red lights, and swerving in and out of traffic. All of this made Isis' heart thud quickly against her chest, not out of fear, but excitement. Isis loved the thrill of rule breaking, but she needed to mind herself, lest she get into trouble yet again.


	4. A Bit of Trouble

It's been weeks since Michael made Isis the offer that she accepted, but her and her grandmother still haven't moved in with him. She hasn't heard from him, solidly, in days. He hasn't called her but maybe once or twice, which are always brief conversations, and he never answers her phone calls. Isis sighed as she stared up at the roof of her trailer, contemplating this whole ordeal she was in. Was he worth getting into so many dangerous situations? She sighed again and turned on her side, letting her hair fall in front of her face. Sleep hasn't come over her for the past three days and she was dead exhausted, but just couldn't find it in her to sleep. Not knowing why she was staying awake was starting to irritate her and it clawed at her and wouldn't leave her alone. Why was it always her that found bad luck in different situations? Mentally she yelled at herself and her life, getting up from the dirt stained couch to head to her dresser in the bedroom. Quietly she entered, careful not to wake her grandmother up, she walked in and searched swiftly through what clothes she had. Choosing a pair of ripped jeans, a long sleeved shirt, and her big jacket she walked from the room to the bathroom and started to change. Afterward she slipped on a pair of socks, followed by her combat boots and she grabbed the knife from the side table by the couch and placed it in her jacket pocket.

Hours later, Isis was walking around Sandy Shores' residential area. Yes, she knew it wasn't a good idea, but she had more than enough reason to believe she could take care of herself. After all, her father trained her to fight and she knew a bit about guns... Though she still has yet to actually own one. Several different thoughts threw themselves around her mind for quite a while, which occupied her from noticing anything in reality. Even though she was busy thinking, part of her was still slightly aware of her surroundings. She knew where she was walking, what was around her, and she did notice a large, rust red truck in a driveway a few feet in front of her. This made her stop in her tracks. She had seen this vehicle before when that crazy man cut off the bus when they were arriving at their destination. For several seconds she looked at that vehicle, and analyzed it, glaring at it.

"Hey! Get the fuck away from my truck!" A loud, raging voice blared at her from her right. Quickly she snapped from her thoughts and her face turned to the direction the voice was coming from. Keeping her composure, she stood their with her hands in her jacket pockets, not faltering in the slightest. Not even when the man practically came running at her with his hands tightened into large, scarred fists. Sure, he could have punched her, but what did she care? Mentally sighing, she closed her eyes and her face pointed towards the ground.

"Hey I'm talking to you!" The man yelled again. Isis only acknowledged him by looking at him from the corner of her eye, through her long, wispy hair. The man stood there and looked at her incredulously before his face contorted into an expression of pure anger. He thought she was ignoring him. Oh, how he hated to be ignored. The man grabbed her shoulder roughly and forced her to turn to face him.

"I said I'm fucking talking to you!" Yelling at her once more before he saw who she was, then he remembered, and his hands slowly relieved their growing pressure from her shoulder.

"You're the girl from before. The one looking for the cab co. or whatever."

Isis took note that this man was Trevor, the same as before. Her fingers spun the closed knife around inside her pocket, cautious of the man. She stared at him as he paced back and forth, not taking his eyes off of her. All he received was a glare from her honey brown eyes and a mental string of curse words that she refrained from saying aloud.

"What do you want?" She questioned quietly, but sternly. She really shouldn't be talking to this man, she knew he was no good and was nothing but trouble. Of course, she talked to him anyways, caring but not caring for the consequences.

He stopped in his tracks and his eyes bore into her as he stood there.

"What do I want?" He chuckled and walked up to her slowly and put his arm around her shoulders. His voice turned soft and he spoke in a kinder voice than before as he whispered to her, "I want know know why the fuck you were staring at my truck. An intent to steal it maybe?"

Isis scoffed and the man and walked away from him, shaking her head. She didn't need this lunatic giving her problems right now seeing as she had enough to deal with already. Only, when she attempted to walk away, his hand gripped tightly onto her shoulder, not allowing her to do as she pleased. Trevor glared at her, even more so than he already was before.

"Look, Trevor. I wasn't trying to steal your truck or anything of the sorts. It just looked really..." Isis spoke softly, nicely gesturing with her hands as she looked Trevor in the eyes. She spoke with honesty and he knew she wasn't lying, just from the look in her eyes... He could tell what she was saying was genuine, yet he prodded her on even more.

"It looked what? Expensive? You about to get all... Comfy and cozy with MY truck!?"

Isis tried her best to hold in all of her frustration in order to keep this man from ripping her face off and possibly eating it, so she spoke again in a calm demeanor, as she did before.

"It looks familiar. I've seen it before is all." She finished her plead with a sincere, soft smile and she took Trevor's large, gruff and calloused hand in her softer, more delicate looking ones. He allowed her to complete her actions and a small part of him hoped that it would last longer, but a few seconds after, he felt his hand falling back to his own side. He didn't feel his anger at his throat anymore, his body was calm for once, completely. And he had her to thank for that so he decided to walk away. To let her go. As Trevor started to back away slowly, she smiled at him one more time before uttering a few words that were barely audible.

"Thank you Trevor. I'll be seeing you soon." She then waved at him before she continued walking, unknowing of the hand that laid dormant in her pocket, white-knuckling her pocket knife.


End file.
